A Second Gust of Wind
by Nuintincowen
Summary: Taking up where Gone with the Wind ended, following Rhett's departure from the dining room and the last words we heard from Scarlett. Please R&R - rated T just in case.
1. Chapter One

_Disclaimer: I do not own Scarlett, Rhett, or any of the other characters mentioned hereafter as created by the wonderful Margaret Mitchell, no matter how much I may wish this wasn't so. The first line of this fanfiction also belongs to the incredible Ms. Mitchell, although the plot and new characters of my own creation (if any) do belong to me._

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"I'll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day." 

Rhett paused, his hand resting on the doorknob to his room as he heard Scarlett's voice in the dining room below. After perhaps a moment of hesitation, he retraced his steps almost silently, dark eyes narrowed slightly. He paused a foot or so shy of the top of the stairs where he knew she would see him just in time to hear her speak aloud to herself. Yet what he heard only made his lips tighten abruptly, shaking his head slightly before turning away again. Stubborn. There was no other word to describe this childish wretch, though he knew the same could possibly be said of himself.

But suddenly there came a sound that struck Rhett so sharply and so abruptly he froze, eyes widening as he looked back over his shoulder slowly.

She was crying.

The sound was so simple, and it was far from the first time he had ever heard his wife shed a tear. But it was the first time it had ever sounded quite like this, so incredibly genuine that Rhett nearly forgot himself, taking a long stride towards the stairs before forcing himself to stop. He couldn't go to her now, no matter how much pain he heard in every small sound she made.

And yet for several moments he found himself shaking slightly, nearly fearful of the control this woman still had upon him despite the cool words he had spoken to her in the dining room mere minutes before.

Because of course it had all been a lie. He had loved Scarlett O'Hara since that fateful day twelve years ago when he had first laid eyes upon the Southern Belle at Twelve Oaks. He had nearly been driven mad on countless occasions because of her, seeking refuge in whatever bottle of alcohol had been most convenient.

But he still loved her. Which was why he forcing himself to leave - he couldn't stand being here any longer, in this house that harbored so many terrible memories: the death of his beloved Bonnie; the countless fights between himself and Scarlett; the accident that he still blamed himself for……and her miscarriage, of course.

Yes, it would be best for him to go. Or at least that's what Rhett repeated to himself over and over again as he backed away from the stairs, turning and moving toward his room again. He silently willed himself to ignore the pitiful sobs that called to him, opening the door and slipping inside before closing it again. Without a word, he slumped against the door, resting his head against the cool wood and closing his eyes as his lips parted slightly, his voice just above a whisper: "I'm sorry, Scarlett."

Despite Scarlett's strong and confident words of mere moments before, the sense of utter loss had still overwhelmed her, a strange and suffocating feeling surging within her chest easily before the tears finally came. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head upon them, welcoming and yet at the same time cursing every drop that escaped her eyes. It felt wonderful to finally let go, to remove her mask of bravery, even if it was for only a short time now.

For she still had to arrange Melanie's funeral for Ashley. She had to be strong for both him and little Beau, as well as for Aunt Pitty and so many others. The mere thought of what the next day would bring caused her to slump in her chair abruptly, the steady flow of her tears slowly waning. The only small comfort was that she could leave after Melly's funeral. She would go back to Tara. To the red earth she loved so intensely, so differently from the countless miles of the same soil that spread throughout Georgia.

And so, with a soft sigh, she rose wearily. Her eyes went to the full decanter Rhett had left on the table, pain filling her gaze. It was her fault he had been driven to this. She had been selfish following Bonnie's death, not bothering to pause and consider just how much he must have been hurting, most likely even more than she.

It seemed as though Rhett was right, and she acknowledged it for the first time; she really was a child - careless and naïve.

As well as blind to something nothing short of wonderful that had been right in front of her for years. Twelve years, to be more precise. How in the world could she have overlooked such an incredible thing, how could she have ignored the love that lurked just beneath the surface of nearly every move Rhett made? Moments after pondering this question, Scarlett knew the answer, had known it all along, really.

Ashley Wilkes.

Of course it was him. Her obsession that she mistakenly thought was love, the small and insignificant feeling that was really only a habitual one. She had been blind to anything else, and it seemed as though Rhett's jealousy grew as each day passed, though she knew he would never admit it.

But what now that she had at last realized how she really only loved Ashley as a brother, as a friend? What happened now that she realized too late that the one and only man whose arms she wanted to hold her close were Rhett's? What was left for Scarlett now?

Nothing.

That was what her heart whispered, aching silently within her chest. Yet at the same time her mind argued otherwise, reiterating the simple and undeniable fact that she was Scarlett O'Hara, former belle of Clayton County who always got her way, always won the man she wished. And Rhett Butler was just like any other man, wasn't he?

_No_, her mind answered immediately, _no, he isn't like any other man. And what sets him apart from all of the countless others in the world is why I love him more than anything, more than life itself._

And because of this, it wasn't going to be easy to obtain the happy ending she knew they both deserved. She would have to change, would have to become someone Rhett could respect, someone she knew he could find the ability to love again. It all seemed so simple, and with childish determination she raised her head from the table, a faint yet triumphant smile on her lips. She would make Rhett fall in love with her again, and she would do it at whatever cost needed to be paid. It would all fall into place in the end, wouldn't it? Of course it would.

But there was something else more pressing for the time being. She would win Rhett's love once more, but first…there was Melanie's funeral.

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_Any feedback - positive or negative - is whole-heartedly welcomed. There is definitely more to come, although I'm not sure exactly when that might be. Sorry to take so long with updating this chapter, but thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter Two

It was a pale, worn woman who stood by Melanie Wilkes' grave two days later, green eyes dulled from exhaustion and grief. She stood alone, the sun beating down upon her cruelly as she stared soundlessly into the small grave in which the body of her dearest friend had been lowered into. A shiver ran through her unexpectedly, her body shaking as if from the cold despite the brutal heat of the day.

Not long after her own departure from the dining room that horrible night, she had abruptly realized that she couldn't leave for Tara immediately as she so desperately wished she could. Ashley had been in no shape whatsoever to do anything for himself, and of course neither had Aunt Pitty. What surprised and disappointed Scarlett the most was the way in which even India had turned to her with a lost look in her eyes, their feud put aside at least temporarily in this time of mourning.

And so she had been forced to take on the burdens of arranging Melanie's funeral, of placing the small obituary in the paper, of ordering the coffin, and of making any and all other necessary arrangements before the burial. Surprisingly, Scarlett had done this all with dry eyes, something that only caused the gossip mills to run ahead with a frenzy. How could a woman be so heartless? How could she move through each day following the death of Mrs. Wilkes with such mechanical efficiency? How could she not grieve for the one person who had stood beside her without question? They all wondered and murmured furiously, and yet Scarlett was hardly aware of it all. Not that it really mattered, for Scarlett knew the things they assumed and judged her for were nothing but lies. Because she did grieve. Oh, how she grieved. Melanie's death had been nothing short of traumatic for her, as it had been coupled with the devastating blow of Rhett leaving her at the same time.

However, she refused to shed a tear after that night, knowing that if she did she wouldn't be able to keep going. Even one tear would certainly bring on a collapse of the carefully constructed walls Scarlett had built within herself, containing her grief to the best of her ability. And so she had pushed her way through the following days, hardly noticing the way her once attractively porcelain skin had turned into a faint yet sickly pallor, the way her appearance mattered very little to her as she dressed in the appropriate mourning attire, throwing her hair back in whatever manner would simply keep it up, no longer caring for any sort of fashion. Perhaps that would change soon, but for the time being Scarlett had no desire to make the effort.

And so she finally stood apart from the other mourners at the ceremony as the impossibly small coffin had been lowered into the ground, the minister's droning voice an indistinguishable hum in her ears. The first sound of dirt hitting the lid of the coffin caused Scarlett to gasp softly, eyes widened as her legs shook before she was able to steady herself moments later. She brought her hand up to cover her eyes, her breathing beginning to steady itself after a moment or two. Her hand fell away from her face now, yet she was unaware of the stares she had attracted. Mrs. Elsing watched her with a disapproving gaze as she stood near the Merriwethers and the Meades, all of them barely disguising their shock at this unexpected display of grief from none other than Scarlett Butler.

But off to the side of the large mass of mourners stood another, cloaked comfortably by the shadows of the trees nearby. He watched Scarlett carefully, his eyes sharp and searching for any sign of deceit before he finally found none. Rhett inclined his head slightly with approval even as his mind was working silently, pondering this new and admirable aspect of his wife. Could it possibly be permanent? Or was she simply and temporarily bending beneath the countless weights that had been placed upon her?

Rhett couldn't be sure, and uncertainty was mildly evident within his expression, and he was grateful she didn't know he was there, her gaze still riveted on the small hole in the ground. He had left early the morning following the night of Mrs. Wilkes' death, leaving Scarlett a brief note informing her that he would return sometime within the next six months or so. But he knew he couldn't truly leave Atlanta until after the funeral, and so he had acquired a room in the Atlanta Hotel before he began to observe Scarlett from afar. He admired the way she'd seemed outwardly to handle everything so well, though he knew she was far from being well herself. This knowledge had provoked a sense of regret within him, but he was reminded too easily of how hopelessly cruel she could be, perhaps with not even realizing it at times. He couldn't risk his heart again, and so he kept his distance from her while remaining mildly surprised that she hadn't been informed of his current whereabouts. Or maybe she had, and simply assumed it was a lost cause to pursue him now.

His silent reverie was suddenly broken by the abrupt wails of Ashley Wilkes, his composed demeanor thrown aside in an instant as the ceremony drew close to its end.

"NO! MELANIEEE!" his cries echoed throughout the cemetery, startling all who stood nearby as Ashley fell to his knees, his face contorted with pain. Little Beau stood off to the side, hiding behind the comforting skirts of his Aunt India, who watched Ashley stonily, trembling slightly as she took his son's hand in hers, holding on tightly.

For Scarlett, this great display of grief and lost love was too much. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she watched Ashley as well before abruptly letting out a shaky sigh. Without a word, she turned and moved towards the gates of the cemetery, moving through the crowd who parted easily, almost shrinking away from her. Surprisingly, it didn't seem to bother her as she finally reached the gates, not sparing even a glance over her shoulder as she reached her carriage at last. Still remaining silent, she climbed up unassisted into the comforting darkness where she finally permitted herself to shake uncontrollably, resting her head against the side of the carriage as it began to move, bringing her ever-closer to the train station, and from there to Tara at last.

The crowd she left behind seemed to recover easily from the surprise of both Ashley's public exhibition of grief and Scarlett's exit, turning towards the minister and the ending of the ceremony again. Only one person's eyes followed the disappearance of Scarlett's carriage before it disappeared around a street corner, and those eyes of course belonged to Rhett. He still stared off in the direction she had gone for several moments, apparently thinking silently to himself. But he finally turned, moving towards a different gate as the minister's final words for Melanie echoed softly through the sea of gravestones.

"...may she rest in peace."


	3. Chapter Three

"Miss Scarlett, is that you?" Mammy's dark face smiled widely at her favorite O'Hara girl as Will and Scarlett rode up in a rather pitiful wagon.

"Of course it is, Mammy," her somber expression faded as a smile finally crossed her lips for the first time in what felt like decades. She climbed down as soon as Will stopped, moving quickly into Mammy's arms and resting her head on the comforting shoulders that had received her tears graciously for years.

They embraced for several moments, Mammy lightly rubbing Scarlett's back as she fought the urge to break down right there. But then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat a bit haughtily as Will lifted Scarlett's luggage and brought it into the house. She looked up, and her smile faded slowly at the sight of a rather grumpy Suellen eyeing her from the doorway of the great house.

"Well, Scarlett. I see you've decided to grace us with your presence again." Scarlett's jaw dropped slightly with surprise, her eyes regaining a bit of their former life as they flickered with the faint yet fiery spark of anger that filled her voice: "Why, Suellen Benteen, I -"

"Ahem. Perhaps it'd be best if we all went on inside," Will's quiet voice cut sharply through the tension that had already formed between the two O'Hara sisters, his gaze steadily fixed on both.

Suellen stared furiously at Scarlett for several long moments before she turned on her heel sharply and swept back into the house. At the same time, Scarlett relaxed uneasily, the tension in her thin frame evaporating with the absence of her sister's presence. She shook her head slightly, moving up the steps and into the home she had grown up in while Mammy looked on, her wise old eyes narrowed as she watched her favorite O'Hara girl. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, and although Mammy couldn't be sure as to the true source of Scarlett's obvious misery, she had a growing suspicion that the cause wasn't just Miss Melanie's death.

"It jus' ain' right," Mammy grumbled softly as she followed Scarlett, shaking her head as she continued to puzzle over this newest mystery. Lost in thought even as she moved, she barely noticed Will as he moved passed her and began unhitching the horse.

* * *

"Mother?"

Scarlett looked up sharply from where she stood beside her bed nearly a week later, having just finished smoothing out the last wrinkle from the faded coverlet. Wade stood in the doorway of her room, watching her with apprehension clear in his troubled gaze.

"Yes?"

"Can I…can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course, Wade," she replied, managing a slight smile that took more effort than it should have. She sat lightly on the edge of the bed as he moved to stand in front of her, his eyes looking anywhere but his mother as he struggled to find a place to begin.

"What's wrong?" she finally spoke again, her eyes taking on the rare yet genuine look of concern.

Wade appeared visibly startled at the new emotion, but hesitantly began to speak at last: "Mother, why…why did you come here? Why aren't you in Atlanta with Uncle Rhett?"

Immediately, Scarlett's lips tightened as her relaxed demeanor vanished. Her eyes widened slightly as she fully regarded her oldest child. "Uncle Rhett had some…business he needed to attend to, Wade, and I didn't want to be alone while he was gone. That's all."

"But why didn't you -"

" I said that was all!" Scarlett's raised voice felt like a slap to Wade, whose own eyes now widened as he regarded his mother in the same fearful way in which he had done so for years.

But her son's expression froze Scarlett, slowly giving into the feeling of shame she felt steadily slipping over her, another foreign emotion that both startled and frightened her. And yet when Wade turned quickly to flee the room, Scarlett's hand was suddenly on his wrist, stopping him abruptly before he turned to look at her, just as startled as she was.

"I…I'm sorry, Wade," she said after a moment had passed, the apology surprising Scarlett herself just as much as her son.

"It's alright, Mother. Really," Wade managed to reply, eyes wide with surprise still. Neither one said anything for another instant or so, but then Wade suddenly leaned forward and embraced his mother, holding on to her just long enough for her to return the affection despite her increased shock before he left the room quickly, leaving a startled Scarlett to sort through the unexpected events of mere moments before.

Several days later, Scarlett sat on the front porch of Tara, her vivid green eyes gazing off across her family's land as she once again found herself lost in thought. There was a slightly desperate look about her as she dwelled on that fateful night now a week past. She didn't doubt that Rhett was now safely tucked away in his precious Charleston, miles away from Scarlett - just the way he seemed to want it.

But distance wasn't her most important problem. No, she had faced greater problems than a couple hundred miles between herself and her goal. What she needed to figure out was what she could do to make Rhett realize just how much she loved him, and then he would of course realize that he loved her in return. Simple, really. Or perhaps not quite so easy.

A slow, stubborn scowl settled over Scarlett's face as she continued to think. Rhett would not be won over with the feminine traits that would break almost any other man's heart in no time. In fact, she was fairly certain that he very nearly hated it when she put on any sort of act in front of him. Which meant that she would essentially have to be herself, something that may or may not work, seeing as how he had run from her when she was herself…

Oh, it was simply too much to contemplate in one sitting! Scarlett stood abruptly, slapping her hand down angrily on the railing of the porch. It shouldn't be this difficult, and yet it was. The only positive point at the time was that the relationship between herself and her children seemed to be slowly improving, something that she unexpectedly had begun to find comfort in. It was a hesitant process for all three parties involved, but Scarlett found that with each day's passing they all seemed to grow more comfortable with each other. It was a great source of pride to Scarlett, for she remembered all-too clearly Rhett's remark concerning her mothering skills several years before and it felt wonderful to prove him wrong at last, even if he wasn't there to witness the cautious yet improving relationship she had managed to form with her two remaining children.

After a moment, Scarlett sighed a bit huffily, considerably calmer even if she did remain frustrated. She promised herself silently yet again that she would find a way to win Rhett again, and she would continue to bond with her children. Things would eventually turn out alright in the end, she resolved. After all, how could they not? And so, with that thought, Scarlett turned to go back into the house, content now that she was on her way to arranging her life back into what she wanted it to be.

But that was before the telegram arrived, not even three weeks later.


End file.
